Ankyra Sound Lost in skies of powdered gold

Light broke through the darkness, and all at once Crosscurrent knew color and shape and movement. The beauty of the moment was not lost on him; even in infancy, he was nothing if not thoughtful, and filled with thought. In his own small wordless way he let himself feel the awe of it, the newness; the magic.

And he knew his twin, too, the moment he laid new eyes on the moonwrought shape of him. How could he not? This one had been with him from the first. Crosscurrent had known his twin almost before he'd had a sense of self. When his brother leaned in, Crosscurrent reached out with both paws to grasp his face. I'm here, the soft gesture said; I felt you before I ever saw you.

But there was movement — something else, something other. Crosscurrent stiffened, drew back, and wailed. Something was wrong. It felt wrong — and his twin was caught in it.